


Portus

by eidheann



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Training, Exhibitionism, Frottage, M/M, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:27:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2413274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eidheann/pseuds/eidheann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just a stupid training exercise; why did he have to be paired up with Malfoy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Portus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AmoretteHD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmoretteHD/gifts).



> Love and thanks to Capitu and Iwao for the encouragement and red pen work. (Sorry for leaving so many of the italics in there against your advice *hugs them*)

"You will be responsible for working with your partner to find the clues needed to reach the Portkey location." Auror Savage's low voice droned on, and Harry fought to keep himself awake and focused on her words. "The magic dampeners on your bracelets will respond to the wards in the area, so your wands will be useless, please keep this in mind. This is a teamwork and trust-building exercise, but it is also a competition. There will be three Portkeys at the final location," and here, a devious smile lit her dark features. "But as I'm certain each of you can count, you will have already determined there are going to be four groups. The remaining group will be responsible for getting themselves home the Muggle way."

Harry sat up, looking in horror around the room, as he noted his expression mirrored by everyone else present. If anything, Savage looked even more pleased. "Any questions?"

Malfoy raised a hand beside him, and he groaned under his breath, not wanting to hear what the git was going to say to attempt to rile Savage up. "And are we to suppose, based on the poor quality of your Ministry-issue rain coat, that weather will be a contributing factor in this exercise?"

"You can suppose whatever you wish, _Trainee_ Malfoy. Does anyone have a _real_ question?"

When Malfoy opened his mouth again, Harry gave him a sharp kick under the desk. Malfoy returned his glare and Savage continued. "Very well, place the dampeners on your wrists now, if you please. The Portkeys will activate to take each pair to their starting location in approximately three minutes."

He ignored Malfoy's glare as he spelled the small Ministry-logo bracelet to his wrist and hefted the rusty candlestick that had been placed on their desk before they'd arrived that morning.

Malfoy was waving his wand over his cloak, muttering _Impervius_ and Harry sighed. "Savage told us to put the bracelets on."

"She's got a rain coat. Which means she's sending us somewhere wet. I'm not putting the dampener on until I've spelled my clothes."

"Don't you think the bracelet and the wards for the area will cancel the enchantments?"

Malfoy shrugged, waving his wand at his shoes now. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I'll take the chance of being dry over the guarantee I'll be wet."

"One minute!" Harry glanced over and Savage was leaning back in her chair, her ankles crossed on her desk.

"Fuck." He pointed his wand at his shoes and cast a hasty _Impervius_ as Malfoy smirked and spelled his own bracelet into place. 

"Thirty seconds!"

Malfoy reached out to grasp a branch of the candlestick. "I hope you're ready to win this, Potter."

"Fuck you, Malfoy. If anyone is fucking this up it's you."

Malfoy opened his mouth, likely with a stinging retort, but was cut off by the familiar hook behind the navel feeling as they were spun off.

-:-

When the world stopped spinning, he was surrounded by wet, greyish-white fog, dense enough to turn the world into a series of hazy indistinct shapes. Indistinct shapes he was familiar enough with after a year on the run to recognize as a forest.

"Oh, bloody hell." He frowned into the muck, taking his glasses off and rubbing them absently. Sliding them back on, he sighed.

"Look familiar, Potter?"

Malfoy's snide voice had a way of getting to him in the best situations, and this was about as far from best situation as he could imagine. "If you're asking if I can tell the difference with my glasses on or off like I reckon you are, then yes." He turned to glare at Malfoy. "And you're slipping. Glasses jokes? Really?"

Malfoy's jaw clenched, but he retorted, "No, I was actually inquiring if the location looked familiar to you based on what you said when we arrived, but _thank you_ for the assumption."

Harry could feel the faint flush of embarrassment climbing his neck and looked down. "Not more than any wet forest in October. Come on, we're supposed to look for clues." He was relieved when he saw the footprints headed to the tree line and started following them, anything to end this hell sooner. Leaving Malfoy to scurry after him or risk losing him entirely in the mist was simply a bonus.

"Where the fuck are you going?" Malfoy was flushed and enraged when he caught up with him several moments later, looking ready to bash him with the candlestick he was still holding.

"Looking for clues to the bloody Portkey, what do you think?"

"By taking off at random from our starting destination? Without your partner? Brilliant plan, Potter. Thanks ever so for fucking getting us lost in the fog and wood and losing us this assignment."

"I'm following the footprints, you git." He pointed down at the tracks in the mud. "I'm not going to take off at random and go marching into a forest, thanks."

"So you're simply forgetting the _'with your partner'_ bit Auror Savage specified. Nice."

"No, I just _assumed_ you'd received the same training I had and would also follow the footprints." The carefully smug look he shot Malfoy may have been a mistake, because Malfoy's fist was flying at his face before the sentence was even out of his mouth. He ducked the punch, but Malfoy tackled him with a roar, landing them both in the cold mud. 

He cursed, in part because the _Impervius_ on his clothing did nothing about the cold muck in his hair or seeping down his neck and in part because that bastard Malfoy was pointy, and fought with flying elbows and knees.

He was able to roll, shove Malfoy into the mud as well which seemed to dampen the worst of his ire, and he knelt a moment catching his breath. His ribs were sore, and he was certain he had a bruise forming on his jaw. He was also cold and wet and he had to struggle to resist throwing himself onto Malfoy and punching him again.

Malfoy didn't look much better than he felt. His lip was split and his robes were half off one shoulder. Harry didn't remember how that happened. He also looked as muddy as Harry felt, his hair hanging in lank dark clumps around his face as he pushed himself up and attempted to gather himself.

"Brilliant. Now we're stuck in the middle of a forest and covered in mud. Wonderful." Malfoy's voice was quiet, and he wiped his mouth, leaving a smear of blood.

"You started it." Harry winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth, half expecting Malfoy to throw himself at him again, and he held up a hand. "Sorry. Sorry."

Malfoy watched him a moment before he nodded sharply and turned to survey the area. "Looks like the tracks go off that way." 

He sighed and nodded, pushing himself up and attempting to wipe the worst of the mud off. Changing the subject, or better not-talking to each other, was likely the best he could hope for from the day, so he continued to trudge off after the footprints.

-:-

"Merlin, now what?" Harry looked up as Malfoy's voice broke through his daze. It felt like they'd been plodding through the mud for hours, and he'd allowed himself to zone out following the footprints and ignoring the sounds of squelching beside him.

"What is _that_?" He blinked at Malfoy, only then following the line he was pointing to the center of a clearing.

He walked to the center of the clearing and peered down. "It's a cassette player." At Malfoy's blank look, he sighed. "Muggle thing. Records sounds to play back later. Like the Wireless."

"Is it the Portkey?" Malfoy's shoulder bumped him as he bent to examine the device.

"Doubt it, bit too straightforward, I think. Push the button. The one that says _Play_."

Malfoy's face shifted to disappointment, but he pressed the button, startling backwards when Auror Savage's voice filled the clearing.

"Hello, Trainees. Congratulations on finding this. Two more to go until your Portkey, so you'd better hurry. You've proven you can follow evidence of someone on foot; for the next phase, you'll be following and locating a magical creature. I'm not telling you what or who, look around and it should be obvious. Bye-bye, boys."

"I fucking hate her."

And as much as it pained Harry to agree, he did.

-:-

"Magical creatures. There's already a fucking department for that." Malfoy pushed his way through the underbrush ahead of Harry, his head down.

"Aurors still have to assist when one is on the loose, now shut up, this is supposed to be tracking."

"It's a stupid idea anyway, werewolves aren't really dangerous during the day. And as grey as it may be, oh look: the sun is still up and shining somewhere. Meaning no fur, no fangs, no claws, not our responsibility."

"Maybe it's a dark wizard who's also a werewolf. The point is to get through this stupid exercise, not whine about the logic of it."

The back of Malfoy's neck pinked under the muddy streaks, but he said nothing, merely stomping ahead even faster. Harry enjoyed the comparative silence, keeping half his attention on the claw marks and grey fur scattered along the trail. The fog just lent a feeling of unreality to the situation, which made it easier to keep walking. After a few moments, Malfoy's twitching became too much and he sighed. "The logic of it's fucked up. Us chasing a werewolf in the woods in the middle of the day, I mean. You're right about that."

Malfoy's steps lagged for a moment before his shoulders hunched and he started walking again. "So what the fuck are we supposed to _learn_ with this, then?"

"Working together, Savage said."

The laugh Malfoy gave at that sounded bitter, but he made no other response, merely continued to trudge.

-:-

The lean-to they were in was dark and claustrophobic, and seemingly wetter than the ever-present fog outside, though the fog in this area seemed to have cleared a bit. It also smelled strongly of animal and contained another cassette player.

"Signs of magic in the area. They can't even keep the story straight, how will there be signs of magic in the area with all the dampeners?" The whine usually present in Malfoy's voice had faded, leaving it flat and dead sounding.

Harry just shook his head. He felt like Malfoy sounded, cold and wet and _done_ with the entire pointless exercise. "Come on. At least moving, it'll be drier."

Malfoy didn't move, so he left the lean-to first, looking around for traces of _Diffindo_ or _Incendio_ or anything. When Malfoy crawled out and came to stand beside him, he mentally cursed Savage for the faint feeling of... relief. That doing this stupid thing with Malfoy was better than stuck out alone, that the feeling of another warm body, another set of eyes, another _someone_ warm and solid beside him made the situation a little bit better.

He jerked from his thoughts when Malfoy uttered a quiet curse beside him. Malfoy pulled his wand, instantly setting Harry on the alert, but he merely aimed at a tree and called " _Accio_."

"What is it?" Harry frowned at the tree, trying to determine what Malfoy had aimed at.

"Buggering... These stupid bracelets. It looks like there's something levitated up that tree."

"You're shitting me." Malfoy had moved, standing closer to the tree and peering up. "Malfoy, you're fucking shitting me."

"Do you know how to climb a tree, Potter?"

He approached, his feet dragging in the mud. Looking up, he could make out what Malfoy was seeing: a cassette, floating just far enough away from the trunk of the tree to be obviously floating. He turned his attention to the tree itself, faced with nothing but straight trunk and no branches for what may as well have been miles. "Not that tree."

"It should cancel the spell if one of our bracelets gets close enough."

"Great. I'll just get right on that, shall I?"

"Working together, Potter. Am I lifting you or are you boosting me?"

He couldn't help it; he stared at Malfoy, who seemed to be avoiding any hint of glancing in Harry's direction. "Savage is crazy."

Malfoy's jaw clenched, and his cheeks darkened. "We've already established that you think she's mad and that you'd rather be eating flobberworms than out here with me, but rehashing doesn't get us done with this any quicker. So unless you want to stand here and stare at the... the thing a little longer, we need to get it so we can move on. We've a limited number of Portkeys, remember?"

There were a million things he wanted to say in response to that, but Malfoy was right. "I'll boost you. You've a longer reach."

Malfoy eyed him a moment before giving a small sharp nod. Harry leaned against the tree, bracing himself, before he nodded for Malfoy to step into his cupped hands.

It was awkward. Malfoy was heavier than he expected, as skinny as he was. Which made Harry wonder why he expected anything about how heavy Malfoy would be to lift in the first place. He turned his head to avoid a face-full of damp wool and tried not to think about the hardness of Malfoy's thigh against his cheek.

"Alright?"

Malfoy wobbled in his grip slightly and he looked up, unable to see much beyond the fact that Malfoy'd braced against the tree with one arm as well. "Up a bit. I'm not close enough."

Harry sighed and pushed up, feeling the bark of the tree grab at his robe and pull it snug against his neck. Malfoy wobbled again before he bounced, nearly costing Harry his grip. There was the sound of something smacking into the ground, and Malfoy hopped down.

Harry was resettling his robe when Malfoy handed him the cassette. "I have no idea what this is."

"It's a cassette. It goes with the player. Come on."

They both hurried back into the lean-to and Harry popped out the cassette currently in the machine and slid in the new one and pressed play. Auror Savage's voice filled the area. "Hope you held onto the candlestick you arrived with, boys. You're gonna need them to activate the Portkeys to get you out. From this heading, you'll go straight north. When you reach the Bombarda'd pine tree, take the fork left. You can't miss the clearing. Have fun!"

"That _bitch_. Do you have the candlestick?"

Malfoy's pinched expression answered the question as well as his headshake.

"Fuck."

-:-

Backtracking was much faster than he'd anticipated, especially with the added motivation their frustration provided. The persistent mist made time difficult to judge, but he was surprised at how quickly they found the candlestick, lying amidst the churned mud of their earlier fight.

Malfoy scooped it up and they both turned back, trudging in the direction they'd just come from. By now the trail through the mud would be obvious even to a blind man. Which was good, because if anything, the fog was getting thicker as the day progressed. Which just seemed _wrong_ , because wasn't the sun supposed to burn it off?

"What time d'you think it is?"

Malfoy shrugged, eyes not leaving the churned trail, as he walked beside him. "Don't know. It's been several hours, at least."

"Shouldn't the fog be getting clearer, then?"

Malfoy looked around. "I suppose? I don't know where we are, but it didn't _feel_ like they sent us somewhere far enough away for it to be late enough for fog to be coming back in."

"How long do International Portkeys take?"

Malfoy wrinkled his nose, a surprisingly open expression. "We went to Crete one summer. I think the Portkey was nearly five minutes."

"Ugh. So. Still in England, then. Meaning this fog is magicked in or the weather's just being particularly shit."

They walked in silence for a few beats before Malfoy stopped. "Potter? Are we discussing the _weather_?"

He shrugged, cursing the prickle of heat rising in his neck. "Seemed safest."

Malfoy stared at him another moment before he sighed and continued walking. "Probably natural, unless someone is out here running through the woods adding more fog as the current batch burns off. Which, I take it back, it's exactly the kind of shit thing they'd do with this stupid exercise."

"Well, it's gotten us talking?" He grimaced at Malfoy's glare. "Yeah, I know. But it's better than punching you again."

"Which I notice you not apologizing for."

"Bollocks, I _notice you not apologizing_ , either."

"The difference being you deserved it."

"Shove off, Malfoy. You're the one who jumped me."

"You fucking deserved it!"

"Only because you were being an arse!" When Malfoy rounded on him again, he held up a hand. "Weren't we talking about weather? Can we at least agree to not spend Merlin knows how long punching each other while we're stuck here and trying to get to the Portkeys?"

Malfoy took an obvious breath and then nodded. "I suggest you keep your mouth shut and I'll do the same."

He nodded. "Sounds fair."

-:-

They reached the lean-to in silence. The fog had become so thick it was much closer to a mist, which made figuring the location of the sun and finding north somewhat difficult. They managed to reach an agreement with little more than pointing and nodding, however, and set off again.

Soon they found themselves on an actual path, difficult to spot with the mud, but markedly there. Their paces increased in unison, and after what Harry estimated was a half-hour, they came to a fork divided around a pine tree that had obviously been hit with a _Bombarda_.

"Thank fuck." Malfoy's voice broke the silence and caused Harry to start with the unexpectedness of it. He couldn't disagree with the sentiment, however. He was tired and thirsty, sore where the earlier fight with Malfoy had left bruises. His heavy woolen robes felt like weights and the mud that had dried to his arms, neck, and hair had long since turned into an itchy mess. The entire day was one he wanted to forget as soon as possible.

He mentally cursed Savage again for the comfort he took in _sharing_ the misery, though part of him acknowledged that was likely the point.

"Come on. Left fork."

They trudged along through the thickening muck. "Why d'you reckon she said we need the candlestick to activate the Portkey?"

Malfoy was silent long enough Harry was beginning to think he wasn't going to answer at all before he replied. "Maybe a candle is the Portkey and placing it in the stick is the trigger. Or maybe the candlestick is required for deactivating our bracelets. Or maybe Savage is just fucking with us."

He snorted. "I know which option I'm betting on."

Malfoy smiled faintly at that.

"Why does she hate us so much?"

"She hates _me_ because of my name and my father and the Mark. She hates all of us more generally because she's in charge of training and a big part of that is trying to convince people to quit early. It's an investment thing."

"It's not going to work. Not with us."

"You think? Finnigan's about two steps from quitting even before this bullshit exercise. And once there's an odd number of us, she can focus her attention on getting the one they want most to leave gone."

"You think she has it in for you that much?"

"You think she doesn't? She paired us, when any idiot knows that's just asking for trouble. She never answers my questions, only passes them off as me wasting her time. I'm always the one singled out for revisions on the reports and paperwork, as well as filling out any A&I reports when things happen in class. She holds me late, never lets me get away with even a minute tardiness, and ignores me when she has nothing to focus on me about. Please tell me how that's _not_ having it in for me specifically."

Harry winced, though he couldn't counter any of Malfoy's arguments. He'd never thought it odd, but thinking back, everything Malfoy said was true. "Why do you put up with it, then?"

Malfoy sighed. "I need a job. I can't sit in the Manor and... I can't do nothing."

"But why an Auror? I guess I thought you'd end up doing something else. Like Potions or something."

Again, Malfoy was silent for several moments. "Being good at something and liking the Professor is different than liking the subject. I never really wanted to spend the rest of my life surrounded by cauldrons and fumes."

"So, wait... You actually _want_ to be an Auror? Even with all this shit?"

Malfoy expression shuttered, his jaw tight. "You talk like me wanting _anything_ is a surprise. You never gave two thoughts to what I might like or want in all the time you've known me, so don't pretend you have some great insight."

He shut his mouth, stung by Malfoy's words, and more stung by the truth in them. He hadn't really been thinking of Malfoy as a _person_ and that realization made him squirm uncomfortably.

"Not like you're any better." Harry's mutter was automatic.

"Mm. So you're saying that female-Weasley _didn't_ nearly hex your balls off when she found out you had more of a thing for remaining-twin than her?"

He stopped, feeling the prickling flush of anger at Malfoy's words. "How the fuck do you know about that?"

Malfoy smirked back over his shoulder. "You just told me, Potter."

He slammed his shoulder into Malfoy's as he hurried to pass him. He wanted to find the clearing that Savage swore he couldn't miss, get the Portkey, and get back to where he could properly hex Malfoy.

-:-

They discovered the clearing more by the change in the undergrowth than anything else. The fog was now so thick that anything more than arms-reach was a blur, and they were forced to walk nearly touching to not lose each other.

Which didn't improve Harry's mood. Each accidental brush of arms or hands or shoulders made his jaw clench and his gut ache with the desire to make Malfoy _hurt_.

They finally split up to more thoroughly search the clearing. The only problem was there was no Portkey.

"Fuck! I can't believe we're last!" Malfoy's voice came bodiless from the grey around him.

"Well, I've looked as best I can in this shit, and there's no fucking anything but grass and leaves and weeds."

"Fuck, this is your fucking fault."

" _My_ fault?" Harry took off in the direction of Malfoy's voice, unable to suppress the desire to punch him any longer. "You're the one who fucking dropped the candlestick and made us backtrack. I'd say that's _your_ fucking fault."

"If it weren't for me, we would have had to go back all the way because you would have fucking left it where we landed."

He spotted the dark silhouette of Malfoy a bit to his right and he lunged, crashing into him and sending them both into the underbrush in a tangle of limbs. It was after the first punches were thrown and Malfoy had rolled on top of him, straddling him and winding up another blow that Harry came to the horrifying realization that he was hard.

He was painfully, embarrassingly hard. Fighting _Malfoy_. Malfoy, who was straddling him, pressed firmly against his crotch and was sure to notice at any moment. His grip on Malfoy's wrist faltered, and he felt his face heating in a blush.

Malfoy paused when Harry's hand went lax and he blinked down at him, his face flushed and bleeding. It was then Harry noticed the unmistakable ridge of hardness against his cock, obvious even through the layers of wool.

Something about the situation, that Malfoy was hard as well, cut through his embarrassment and his hand shot up, grabbing Malfoy by the nape and pulling him down into a fierce kiss. Malfoy made a sound before his mouth opened, tongue sliding against Harry's, and Harry's cock twitched in anticipation. It sounded like... well, he sounded like sex, and Harry pulled Malfoy closer, tighter against him.

Then Malfoy's hips bucked, grinding down and he could only thrust back against that perfect friction.

And thinking of _Malfoy_ and _perfect_ together in the same sentence didn't feel so strange as he thought it might, not when his hands were a desperate grip in Malfoy's silky hair, and each time he tightened his fingers, Malfoy's hips bucked and he made _that sound_ once again. 

Not that Malfoy was passively taking Harry's mauling. His hands were frantic across Harry's arms and chest, clinging and squeezing and pulling before they finally slid between Harry's head and the ground, fingers catching and pulling where the mud had glued his hair into clumps.

And that was a surprise as well, that Harry was hard and _close_ and the edge of pain seemed to be driving him there faster.

He was certain he'd curse himself for this later. That there was something intrinsically _wrong_ about getting off with Malfoy, period. They hated each other, had done for nearly a decade. But right now, after the cold, the frustration, the everything, all he could think about was how _right_ Malfoy felt. He was all sharp bones and angles, pale and pointy and _perfect_. 

It was perfect until there was the sound of feet in underbrush and Ron's familiar voice broke in, "I know, but Savage said the Portkeys would be here somewhere."

"Savage is an idiot." Seamus' voice came next, small and frustrated, and Malfoy froze above him.

"Well, we must be last, then." Ron's retort was sharp, and Harry knew him well enough to read the frustration in it. He was distracted when Malfoy shifted on his lap, rocking in a way that couldn't be accidental.

Harry glanced up quickly, only to be met by Malfoy's challenging expression, a single eyebrow raised and a smirk more playful than what he'd been used to seeing. Then Malfoy rocked again, and Harry had to close his eyes. He was _not_ going to be caught shagging Malfoy in the middle of an assignment.

"So we need to fucking walk. How are we supposed to get back when we don't even know where we _are_?"

"I don't know, Seamus!" Ron kicked something hard enough to thunk, likely a tree, and Malfoy bit his lip, picking up their earlier rhythm. Harry pulled Malfoy down again, kissing him as much to shut himself up as because he actually liked kissing him. He was out of breath, the effort to stay silent more taxing than he could have thought, and he thrust back against Malfoy, praying he stayed quiet as well.

"Come on, let's just keep walking. We'll get out of here eventually." Seamus didn't sound much like he believed his own words, but at that moment, Harry really didn't care. He listened with half an ear while the steps faded with distance.

"You fucking git." Harry grabbed Malfoy's hips hard enough he was half-certain he'd left bruises, grinding him against his cock as he pulsed wetness into his pants. "You are a fucking arse."

Malfoy smirked and rocked against Harry's over-sensitive prick for several more thrusts until his face went lax and his eyelids fluttered closed. His face softened, his expression open and gentle in those moments, and something inside Harry twisted. Then Malfoy smiled-- _smiled_ \--at him, "Never fantasized about getting off a dozen steps from your best mate?"

Harry laughed, because the entire situation was unreal but _not_ horrifying. "Can't say I have."

"Mm. Pity." Malfoy pushed himself up, smoothing a hand down his robes with a grimace. Harry pushed himself up as well, waiting for it to hit him, waiting for this to go from surreal to terrible and only half surprised when it didn't.

"What about the Portkeys? If we're not the last ones here, I mean."

Malfoy looked thoughtful at that. "I was thinking about that. Give me your wrist."

When Harry held his hand out, Malfoy touched the bracelet with the candlestick and the bracelet fell to the ground. "Ha! I was right."

"That sneaky _bitch_." Harry shook his head as Malfoy did the same with his own bracelet. "Why did she tell us there would be Portkeys?" 

"The candlesticks may still be triggered to send us back now that the bracelets are gone."

"Wait a minute." Harry waved his wand, cleaning the worst of the mud as well as the mess in his pants before doing the same to Malfoy. "Okay, better."

Malfoy nodded, his expression distancing to coolness again. "Thank you. Are you ready?"

Harry eyed him a moment, before stepping forward, grabbing Malfoy's hair and pulling him in for another kiss. "Now I am."

Malfoy's expression was slack with shock when he touched his wand to the candlestick. _"Portus."_


End file.
